Sharpshooter
by Sparrow Nightrunner
Summary: A look into the past of one of Suikoden III's quietest characters: Jacques. Oneshot. Please R


_Disclaimer: I don't own Suikoden or the characters of the 12th Unit. If I did, I'd have enough money to afford a lawyer. Which I wouldn't need, if I owned it. There's circular logic for you._

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Sharpshooter

_People look at me oddly. Some say I'm "weird." Ace has called me "freaky" before. _

_I don't know. I just don't like to talk when it's unnecessary. What's so "weird" about that? _

_Captain Geddoe understands, I think. He's got things in his past, too. Terrible things, probably. The stuff that weighs on you is rarely good. But I'm not one for prying into the captain's business: or anyone else's, for that matter. _

_I can't say why I joined the 12th Unit of the Southern Frontier Defense Force. It surprised me, how easily I accepted Captain Geddoe's offer. It's not that I regret it. Far from it. It just felt… strange… to be back among people again._

_Considering all that's happened since then, I wonder how things might have turned out if I'd said 'no.' I'd still be back there, probably, with only me and the mountains._

_It's funny what a little nod of the head can do, isn't it?_

* * *

It started with troll dragons. Living in a secluded mountain village, one learned how to contend with them nearly daily. We had a nest of them not far from us, so boys and girls alike were given bows in their cradles. Children were never allowed outside the village without an adult or two handy, and a couple wolfhounds to boot. It was just that sort of place. 

I sat on a ledge above the village, Scruffy sprawled beside me in the sun. My shortbow rested on the rocks at my feet, just in case. By my age, most boys had graduated to longbows, but it seemed pretty clear now, at the age of sixteen, that I would never have to arm-span for it.

"Hey, boy! Jacques! What are you doing up there?"

I peered around, brushing strands of my wily hair out of my face. Sephan, one of the men of my village, gazed up at me. Shading his eyes with his hand, he shifted his longbow on his shoulder.

"I'm just thinking," I called back down.

Sephan started the climb up to my ledge. "Way up here? I've never known you for wanderlust, kiddo."

I helped him hop up onto the ledge beside me. "Have you noticed how much quieter it is up here? It's actually kind of nice to be alone to think every once in a while."

Sephan snorted, standing beside me. "You, of all people, to say that."

"What? I like peace and quiet every now and then." I gave him a smile as he tousled my hair. Smiles and words came much easier to me back then.

"Well, I suppose." He considered me for a moment. "I guess I should play the authority figure and berate you for wandering out her alone."

"I'm old enough to take care of myself. Besides, I'm not alone: Scruffy's with me." I poked the dog, who obligingly yawned and rolled over.

"A model guard dog," Sephan chuckled, shaking his head. "Anyway, I've been looking for you on your mother's behalf."

I nodded, looking down at the village. It was a small place of maybe a dozen huts, sprawled along the curve of the valley. The thatched roofs glowed golden in the afternoon sun. The townspeople appeared as little more than specks. "She wants me back at the house?"

"Yep. Didn't say why, though. She had the queerest smile on her face…"

I just looked at him. My mother wasn't prone to queer smiles. "All right. Come on, Scruffy." I nudged the dog awake, with some effort. Standing, I shouldered my bow and started the winding descent back to the village.

Usually, when my mother called me home, it was to watch over my siblings while she ran out to run an errand or two. I knew that wouldn't be the case, today, as, Chelsea, our neighbor, had volunteered to watch them if anything came up. I'd gone out of the village limits under the assumption that I wouldn't be called back until nightfall.

When I entered the town, I noticed an odd air of excitement. Like a festival. Everyone was laughing and chatting excitedly in the sun. I wondered what had gotten such a small place so festive.

My curiosity was satisfied as my thirteen-year-old sister came running up to me, shouting, "Jacques! Guess what! A _merchant's_ come! A real _merchant_!"

"An outsider?" Our village was secluded and nameless; it was very rare for _anyone_ to come through, much less someone looking to make a profit.

"It's amazing!" Kayle continued, blond hair flying everywhere as she stopped beside me. "He's got these huge swords and axes, straight from Tinto! And this iron armor…!"

I smiled down at my sister. "Does he sell anything else?"

Kayle paused for a moment. "Well… Baubles and cloths, but who really cares about that?"

I couldn't help a chuckle. Kayle _would _be taken in by weaponry. Perhaps the best term for her was… feisty.

"There _were_ some really good bows, but they were all bought as soon as he got here."

I nodded, tousling her hair the same way everyone seemed to like to tousle mine. "Maybe Mother will let you buy something, if you ask nicely."

Kayle grinned slyly, holding up a small pouch no doubt filled with potch. "I already did. I've been trying to decide what to buy."

"I can't help you, there. Mother called me home."

"Huh? Why?"

I shrugged. "I'll see you at supper."

With a nod, Kayle jetted off the way she'd come. I watched her go for a moment, noting her easy run. Quick and fiery, was our Kayle.

With that thought, I turned and finished my journey to the small hut I called home. It was a modest two-room dwelling. The front room contained the cooking fire, cabinets, and minimal seating; while the back had our beds, a bookcase, and a table we used as a desk. The old windows let minimal light in, making the room seem dark and dreary at noon. But it was cozy.

Almost immediately upon entering, a seven-year-old mass of limbs and skirts came bounding up and attached itself to my leg. "Did you see him? Did you see him?"

Mari looked up at me with wide turquoise eyes. "Who?" I asked, attempting to dislodge my sister from my leg.

"The merchant!"

I shook my head, failing to hold back a smile. "Kayle saw him. Why didn't you go out with her?"

Mari gasped and hid her face in my pant leg. "That's scary!"

Mari was the shiest girl in the village. I could understand how a stranger would frighten her. Still, she seemed susceptible to the same excitement as Kayle. That must have made this quite a debacle.

"Jacques! Don't let the dog in!" My mother stood in the doorway to the back of the house, little Fernand balanced on her hip.

Too late, I looked behind me. Scruffy sat innocently in the doorway, amidst a mess of muddy paw prints.

Mother sighed patiently after a moment, seeming to push the dog out of her mind. "Well, you've finally arrived. I must say, it took Sephan long enough to find you."

I gave her my best innocent smile, to which she frowned suspiciously. To my surprise, she let it drop. Shifting four-year-old Fernand, she used her left hand to draw Mari off my leg. Then, she motioned me into the back room without another word.

Curious, I followed, then stopped when I saw what lay on the table in the middle of the room.

"It's yours, Jacques. I bought it from the merchant." She beamed proudly.

Slowly, I approached the table and reached out to touch its treasure. It took me a moment to find the words. "H… How much did it cost?"

"That doesn't matter."

I ran my hand along the long oaken body. It was smooth and polished, with not a splinter or a blemish. The handle at the back was thick and heavy for balance. The trigger mechanism fascinated me in its complexity. It was capped with metal, where the frame met the limbs in front.

I ran a hand along the thick hemp string. "It's almost as big as I am."

"It's more powerful than any longbow in the village."

I couldn't take my eyes off the crossbow. It was, in a word, magnificent. Yet, something tugged at the back of my mind.

"Why?"

My mother hesitated. I forced my eyes from the gift to see her eyes turned away. "You're the man of the house, Jacques. If something were to happen to me, I'd need you to watch over your sisters and brother."

I looked at Fernand, sucking his thumb on her right hip, and Mari, clinging to her skirts. "Don't talk like that."

She said nothing, but her eyes were soft and gentle. Somewhat nervously, I brushed my hair out of my eyes. "Mother…" I turned back to the crossbow, searching for words. "…thank you."

* * *

The next day, I got my first chance to test out my new crossbow. 

The village trembled under the shriek of a troll dragon. Above us, one of the females of the nest prepared to swoop. Well drilled in the event, men and women lined up with bows along the outer rim of the village. Kayle and I joined them, along with three of the village's hounds.

"Her nestlings are hungry," Gastion explained as we crouched in the dirt. He was a young man known as a wit, as well the son of the village's chief.

"You'd think there'd be easier game," Kayle said. "They haven't gotten one of us for over a year."

"Just takes a little discouraging," Gastion said with a grin, strumming his bowstring.

I squinted up at the dragon, brushing my unruly hair out of my eyes. "I don't know. She looks pretty angry about something."

Gastion gave me a look. "How can you tell?"

The dragon let out another shriek, which set the dogs to howling.

"That didn't sound good!" one of the villagers cried from down the line.

"Think she'll come within range this time?" another asked.

"Everyone, just hold your places!" cried Petyr, the village chief. He and his wife had taken the front line, longbows at the ready.

I lifted my crossbow with more than a little effort as the dragon alighted and passed above us. She came back lower, and several bows let fly. The arrows fell short, falling harmlessly to the mountainside.

"Hold!"

I waited as she circled back again, then again, swooping lower with each pass. Even the dogs seemed to hold their breath as she reached bow range.

"FIRE!"

The first round thundered into her, most bouncing off her thick hide. Three passed through her leathery wings, and one found a resting spot in her shoulder.

Still, I waited to fire my first shot. Crossbow range was usually shorter than a longbow's. I had no way of knowing how close the dragon had to be.

She passed again, and a second volley hammered her. She shrieked, either in pain or in anger.

Finally, she passed close enough that I felt confident in the range. I fired with the rest, aiming for anywhere on her gigantic body. To my surprise, the arrow tore straight through her tough natural armor, lodging itself in her torso.

Gastion whistled as she left range again, glancing sidelong at me. "Was that you?"

I nodded, rushing to reset the trigger. It took a bit of fumbling, so I missed the next pass, but I scored a hit in her side on the following. My new crossbow really was more powerful than any of the other bows in the village.

"Jacques! Boy!" I heard Petyr calling, and glanced away from resetting my crossbow. The chief was nocking another arrow from a rapidly depleting quiver. "Aim for the muscles in the wings!"

I nodded, understanding the logic of it. Unable to fly, she'd be forced to return home. I concentrated hard as she swooped low enough to smell her rancid breath. Then, I pulled the trigger.

The arrow imbedded itself in the muscle where the wing parted the shoulder, wrenching a shriek from the dragon. She suddenly veered and started careening out of control. As we watched, she started back to the nest before falling to the ground. She alighted again, flew a few strides, and fell again. Giving it up, she set off at a loping run.

The village erupted in the first true cheer in a while. That one had been close. I got more than a few slaps on the back, and my hair got tousled until it fell fully in my face.

Gastion gave me a hearty grin. I couldn't help but smile back. It was infectious.

* * *

The thing to know about it was that the dragon _was_ angry. The merchant had stolen one of her eggs when he'd passed through. It wasn't long until we had three or four attacks a day, often by different females from the nest. Eventually, the chief decided to send for help. 

A week later, the dragon slayers arrived.

I watched them parade into the village from a perch on my roof, Scruffy sitting next to me with ears perked. They made an awful racket, clanging about in full armor. Many were equipped with swords and poleaxes as big as they were. They were a mismatched group, as if each had picked their outfit out with no care as to what everyone else was wearing. All in all, there were fourteen of them.

They stopped in front of Petyr's hut, where the chief and his wife waited. A crowd of weary villagers gathered around them. My searching eyes immediately spotted Kayle in the crowd, but saw no sign of the rest of my family.

It started peaceful enough. I couldn't make out all the words, but I caught the gist of it. In return for their service, they wanted payment and access to any resources in the village. Something about that last part put me on edge. Petyr must have felt it as well; he asked what sort of 'resources' they required.

"Access to your food, weapons, and shelter. And everyone's got to do what we tell 'em."

I shifted my crossbow.

Petyr fidgeted uncharacteristically. "We don't have much by way of weapons, and I'm afraid we have very little food and lodging to spare…"

The leader of the slayers said something in a low voice that made the rest of the slayers chuckle and the villagers raise protests.

"You MONSTERS!" Kayle's voice rang clear above the rising roar. I watched as she leapt out of the crowd, brandishing an arrow like a dagger. She streaked toward the leader, who dodged her easily before slashing her head from her shoulders.

I barely heard the words, "And that's what happens to those who disagree." My mind had blanked and my head was reeling. _Kayle… Oh goddess… Kayle!_

Somehow, in my daze, I grabbed my crossbow, blew the hair out of my eyes, aimed, and pulled the trigger. I didn't really think about it. All I knew was that the man had killed my sister.

The arrow hit him in the back, tearing through leather armor and probably puncturing a lung. I watched the man fall to his knees at Petyr's feet. Then, I heard shouts above the roar in my ears and suddenly knew that I was in trouble.

My mind jerked back into motion abruptly. I ducked off the roof, out of sight, and ran with all my might, Scruffy sprinting at my heels.

I don't know what my mother must have seen on my face when I came crashing in the door, because she didn't say anything about Scruffy following me inside. She rushed to scoop up a whimpering Fernand.

We stood in silence for a moment. I could hear the sounds of a battle starting up outside. The door muffled the shouts and the clanging of metal, but it could not disguise the din.

My mother studied me for a long moment. "What happened?"

Suddenly, I couldn't meet her eyes. I found myself staring at the toes of my leather boots. "Mother…"

Something in my voice put a pang of worry in hers. "What happened, Jacques? Where's Kayle?"

"I… I was too slow… She's…" I couldn't say it.

_I was supposed to protect her…_

I heard Scruffy start growling. Moments later, someone pounded at our door.

"Anyone in there?" An unfamiliar voice called.

"Break it down."

I hefted my crossbow, not afraid to kill again. "Mother, you've got to leave."

Mother looked at me, wide-eyed for a moment, then nodded. She ran into the back room and came back with Mari's hand in hers. "Will you be all right alone?"

"I'll have to be. Besides, I'm not alone. Scruffy's with me."

Mother nodded sagely to the dog. "May you two make your father proud." With that, she went into the back room and started hefting them out a back window.

When the two dragon slayers broke the door down, the first found an arrow in his throat, and the second, a dog on his shin.

The second slayer cursed and kicked Scruffy across the room. Then, he saw me. "He's here! The boy who killed the boss!" I silenced him effectively with an arrow to the heart.

At point-blank range, it was hard to miss.

I don't like to recall the next couple minutes as Scruffy and I defended our home. I used the crossbow as a shield, more often than not, and sometimes I missed a target under the pressure. Other villagers ran by my door, bows in their hands or wounded people over their shoulders.

Scruffy jumped onto the last guy a second before I was ready, and a poleax through the spine dropped him at my feet.

Safe to say, that guy didn't live long after that.

Later, as I was walking through the village, surveying the villagers, I found the corpses of my mother, sister, and brother. They had barely gotten three houses away before someone had run them through. I sat there for a long time, staring at my mother's eyes. They looked like they had been crying.

Kayle, Mother, Mari, and Fernand… I laid them all down in the earth, beside Petyr and all the rest that had lost their lives that day. The slayers' bodies, we left on the mountainside for the dragons to feed upon. A cruel poetic irony, really.

Scruffy, I buried on the ledge where we had sat and thought together.

* * *

I sat on a bed in the eerily quiet hut, sharpening my arrowheads. I had reached a decision. 

Chelsea bit her lip worriedly, standing above me. "I'm not prying, you know. It's just, you haven't been eating well. I'm worried."

I watched her through the blond curtain of my hair. "I know."

"That's another thing. You're so quiet, now. Everyone has to badger you just to get you to talk."

I turned back to my arrowheads. My neighbor meant well, I knew. But this was something I'd have to do myself.

"Jacques, please. Tell me if I can help."

"You can't."

Stunned silence. I glanced up at her to notice her fiddling with her apron.

I stood up, shouldering my crossbow and scooping up the bag I'd packed the night before. "It was good knowing you, Miss Chelsea."

Her eyes widened in astonishment. "What…?"

I left without answering. Resolutely, I headed toward the chief's hut, where Gastion now oversaw the village.

I knocked. "It's Jacques."

A moment later, Gastion opened the door. "Jacques…! We haven't seen you for a while…" I could hear the hesitancy in his voice. After all, it had been my arrow that had started the battle that had killed his parents. That was part of the reason I was doing this.

I peered inside the large hut. A number of the prominent villagers were gathered around the chief's sitting table. Their expressions at the sight of me ranged from confusion, to accusation, to pity.

Gastion motioned me inside. He had aged, just as I had. "What is it?"

I considered the hangings and paintings along the walls for a moment. "I'm wondering if you have a map."

Gastion exchanged a glance with Epon, one of the elder members of the village. "A map? Of what?"

"The region. I just want to look at it."

Gastion hesitated before nodding and running into another room.

Sephan rose from his seat at Gastion's table. "What's this about, boy?"

My eyes found a rather interesting hanging depicting a mountain valley. "I'm leaving."

"What?" Another cried.

"What insanity is this?"

"The boy's only sixteen!"

Suddenly, I found myself peering up into Sephan's rough face. "Roche is right. You're only sixteen. You won't survive out there."

"I don't belong here anymore." It was simple, and it was true. I had changed far too much.

The statement left the room in silence as they pondered it. Presently, Gastion arrived with a large rolled-up map tucked under his arm. He cleared off a spot at the table and spread it out. I moved to stand beside him so I could look it over. I decided to head north through the mountains, in the direction of Harmonia. I'd find a life somewhere around there.

With a nod of thanks to Gastion, I turned and walked out, crossbow set across my shoulder.

* * *

There was one thing I had to do before I could disappear completely. I sat on one of the highest points on the mountainside, watching the troll dragons mill about below me in their nest. Total, there were six females and a handful of nestlings. Several eggs were set in the center, baking in the sun. Under the cover of a mountain shrub, I aimed my crossbow at the one that mattered: the male. He sat like the great sire he was, watching over his brood. I'd only have one shot before the beast came at me, so I made sure to set my sight straight for his right eye. 

I shot, and hit my mark, arrow sinking in to puncture his brain. The beast roared, throwing his head back. He took a while to die, trampling eggs and nestlings in the process, which, frankly, made my job a great deal easier. The females started to shriek and cry in panic, and the entire nest was thrown into an uproar. Meanwhile, I slowly picked off the infant troll dragons and punctured holes in the eggs.

When the male had finally collapsed, the females alighted and scattered, shrieking all the way. Four of them flew straight away over the mountains, giving the nest up as lost. The other two soon found the same fate as the sire.

When all was silence below me, I stood and started north. I couldn't seem to summon up any reaction to what I had just done, nor could I think of a reason why I'd done it. I had felt compelled.

It had started with troll dragons, so I guess I'd decided to finish it with troll dragons.

* * *

I spent six years alone in the mountains above Harmonia, as a hunter. I'd track down game, kill it, and sell its hide at the nearest village. I guess you'd say that the mountains became my home. I honed my tracking and hunting skills, and became attuned to the earth spirits simply by virtue of having a great deal of time alone with them. 

There came a day when I heard of bandits in my region. It was not an uncommon event, and I preferred to avoid human contact as much as possible. I found their tracks and made a note to avoid crossing their path.

Bandits have a nasty way of frightening game. They know nothing of stealth.

A few days later, I found another set of tracks, different than the first. These were set on a dirt path that crossed the region. There were four sets of tracks, all appearing to be running, and they were _fresh_. Within the last hour, at the least.

As I knelt, studying them, I heard tremors in the ground, as of many approaching feet. I leapt to climb the nearest tree for cover. Expertly maneuvering about the branches, I shifted to watch as a group of nine armed men jogged past. Their mismatched armor reminded me distantly of something.

"We've got them, now!"

Long after they'd clanked and clambered their way past, I sat in the tree. I knew what they reminded me of: the dragon slayers who had...

Silently, I slid out of the tree and started trotting after them along the dirt road.

* * *

Three hours later, I heard shouts up ahead. I slowed my approach and automatically started to move stealthily. 

"This is the last time I'm gonna ask nice: surrender your runes!"

Again, I used a tree to get a good vantage point. It seemed that the group of nine had cornered the group of four. Five of the nine now held them at sword-point, while the rest loitered around the small clearing.

"We have a rune sage, if that's your hesitation, boys," one of the nine said.

"Any bright ideas how to get out of this one, Captain?" one of the four muttered.

Another of the four, a rather dark man with an eye-patch, said, "I need time."

"Give them over, or we'll have to take them from your corpses!"

I had heard enough. As little as I liked messing in other peoples' business, the malicious greed in the man's eyes provoked something in me.

I drew out my crossbow and brushed my hair out of my eyes. However, I didn't fire at the one who was talking, presumably the leader. This time, I fired at the one holding the sword to the dark-haired man.

Immediately, the man closed his eyes as if concentrating, but I didn't pay much attention to that. The next target was another of the sword-wielders. And then the third.

A flash of lightning struck down the leader of the nine and the other three of the four sprung into action, grabbing swords and daggers from where they'd been tossed aside. One of them started pounding at the fourth sword-wielder with unprotected fists.

I watched in an odd fascination as the four easily dispatched the remaining bandits. After the fray, the woman of the group started tending to wounds while one of the men commenced looting the corpses.

The man with the eye-patch scanned the trees silently. After a moment, his dark eye rested on my hiding spot. "I think our mysterious sharpshooter is still here."

The woman looked up from tending the martial artist. She glanced at the man. "What does he want?"

Slowly, the man approached my tree. Something about the calm set of his features drew my curiosity. I slid through the branches and hopped out of the tree, in full view of all four.

"_He _saved us?" the corpse-looter snorted. "He's nothing but a kid!"

"Shut up, Ace," the martial artist snapped.

The woman stood and walked over, a calculating expression on her face. "Geddoe… You're not thinking…"

The man, apparently named Geddoe, was still looking me over with a searching look. Almost deliberately, he addressed me. "My name is Geddoe, captain of the Holy Harmonian Southern Frontier Defense Force, 12th Unit, and these are my companions: Queen, Joker, and Ace."

After a moment of silence, I realized they wanted my name. "I'm Jacques."

The captain's expression settled my wish to run, somehow. "Your skill with those bandits was impressive and we could use a marksman. Will you join the 12th Unit?"

I paused, looking around at the four of them. Geddoe, face a mask of confidence and old wisdom. Queen, watching the exchange with sharp eyes. Joker, sitting on the grass, seeming not to pay attention at all. And Ace, looking as if he had swallowed something sour.

Slowly, I nodded. Geddoe reached out his hand to shake, and I took it with only a moment of hesitation.

Ace groaned. "Just what we need… another mouth to feed."

Queen cast him a look. "You guys will have to moderate your drinking. What a pity."

Joker stood up slowly. "First, this kid needs some new clothes. These are nothing but tatters."

Ace groaned. "More potch, gone."

"And something to hold back that unruly hair. A headband, or something."

"A really _big _headband…"

Geddoe still watched me, and I had the strangest feeling that I'd just made the biggest decision of my life.

Because I had.

_

* * *

Author's note: This is, in no way, canaan. Most of the characters and places are completely made up. All anyone knows about Jacques' past is that he was a hunter in the mountains before he saved the 12th Unit and got enlisted. This is a fanfic that simply attempts to explore a possible reason for why he is the way he is. This is the first fanfiction I've posted, so please R&R. _


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